The Lady of Letters
by NicoleWouldnot
Summary: Have you ever wondered what would have become of Jane Austen and her writing if she had continued her love affair with Tom Lefroy? I have. Follow me on my journey of weaving the imaginary tale of a life that could have been.
1. Introduction

**_The Lady of Letters_**

Have you ever wondered what would have become of Jane Austen and her writing if she had continued her love affair with Tom Lefroy? I have. Follow me on my journey of weaving the imaginary tale of a life that could have been.

My story begins in the long lonely hours at Steveton after Jane and Toms failed elopement. Our Jane is trying to comfort herself with the knowledge that she did the honorable thing by releasing him. Her family and friends are trying to comfort the shell of the lively girl they once knew.

How will Jane write of the heart when her very own is broken? Will lost love hold her back? Is it really lost?

Follow along as what was once thought lost is found again in the guise of a hasty letter. After all, Jane received the title of "The Lady of Letters" for a reason. That reason is just more interesting than you think.


	2. Chapter One

The slow, melodic strain of a familiar tune drifted through her head. It was the same song she and Tom had danced to at Lady Gresham's ball. It had been many weeks since that night but the memories were still fresh as ever. As she walked slowly along her path through the wood she thought back to that night. The way his eyes had met hers in the dance she would never forget.

The late afternoon sun flitted across the trees lightly, illuminating shiny green leaves. The weather was mild and the breeze pleasing but it affected Jane little. This place that had once been a beautiful sanctuary for her was now only a palpable reminder of him.

Tentatively she reached out and touched the rough bark of the tree he had pushed her hastily against the day he had come back to her. Her fingers stung from touching such a physical reminder of that day, of that intimate embrace. It seemed to hold his essence, kept his heartbeat.

For it certainly did not belong to her. She had hurt and disappointed him. No matter how it pained her, she knew it had been the right decision. Jane was no longer a sentimental young girl. She had loved as violently as any heart could dare. The feelings she shared with Tom were not the silly infatuation of youth, but a strong mature affection. Loving another in that way was rare and seemed to require a heavy payment. Jane had indeed paid with her happiness in exchange for his and his families. She told herself once again that it was noble, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks and headed towards home.

"You should not go there so often," Cassandra said as she walked through the door. Her sister's voice was soft with concern, but try as she might Jane could not rally her spirits enough to reassure her. Instead she offered Cassie a small smile before heading to the kitchen in search of some employment. She didn't want to think any longer. Without a strong will to check them, her thoughts would be with him constantly. She would wonder endlessly where he was and what he was doing. Was he content? Did he ever think on her?

"Back from your walk already?" Mrs. Austen asked her daughter from behind a large pot of stew. It was still unusual for her to witness Jane enter the kitchen with the intent to be of service. Jane had always despised housework and shirked it whenever she could in favor of reading or working on her stories. Since the unfortunate incident Mrs. Austen had not seen her daughter so dedicated to her chores.

"My energy was not what it usually is today." Jane explained. Her mother gave her a knowing look before handing her an apron from the rack. Jane took it, grateful for her mothers' tact at present. Her family in fact, had been very generous in their treatment of her and her ill spirits.

She had put all in a difficult situation but they offered no censure or condescension. In the weeks following her failed elopement the family strayed little into society; Jane even less. This was a strain to Mrs. Austen who was by nature a social creature. With Lady Gresham's disapproval of Jane and the impossibility of meeting the Lefroy's with out awkwardness for any forcible time, their engagements had been limited.

Jane was sure that her family had no doubt heard news of Tom, considering word spread quickly in Hampshire, but she bid them never to tell her. For had it not been Henry and Eliza who brought the news of his engagement and subsequent visit to the area? Jane had decided she never wanted to hear news like that again, especially from those she loved.

"Dinner is nearly ready child," her mother spoke softly. "Why don't you go and rest for a while, maybe write for a bit?"

"Mum," Jane replied giving her mother a resigned look, which Mrs. Austen pointedly ignored. Jane shuffled a few bowls around needlessly before giving up and retiring to her room.

"Would that I could," she spoke to herself while looking down upon her folio. Her hand ached for her pen, but she was at a loss for words. She had tried to write a few times since the incident but every time the words flowed, they were about Tom. As beautiful as the descriptions of him were that she conjured, she would not disgrace herself by keeping them. Every line went to the fire.

While Jane wanted to destroy all that reminded her of her lost love, Cassandra held ever thing of Roberts close to her heart. When she was sure of being left alone for a few hours she would take out his letters and read them over. Cassie was never one for public displays, so when Jane would hear her sister's soft cries she made sure to never disturb her.

It had been Cassandra's great influence and tender friendship that Jane relied upon most. Whenever she felt a fit a great sorrow coming on she would think of Cassie and her modest grieving. It seemed that Jane had finally learned to hold her tongue, and her emotions in check.

Feeling tired from her walk and heavy thoughts she lay across her bed. Closing her eyes she hummed a tune to herself before drifting into a deep slumber. She dreamt of being lost in a dark wood, and all the terror that would supply. Tossing and turning she called out in her sleep for what she did not know.

"Jane," a far away voice called. "Wake up."

Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the concerned face of her sister. Cassandra had rushed urgently to Jane's side when she heard her cries and almost for got about the letter she had brought up with her.

"Are you alright?" She asked sincerely, touching her forehead to check for fever. Thankfully she was not over warm.

Jane sat up and smoothed her hair back. "A bad dream that is all," she said.

"Well in that case I shall give you what I came in search of you for originally." Jane wondered what she was getting at.

"Smith came in with the evening post a few minutes ago and it contained something for you." Cassandra held the square letter out to her. How odd it was for her to receive something in the evening post. She hoped it was not urgent news of some calamity.

She turned the letter over in her hand and saw that it was indeed addressed to a Miss. Jane Austen. The sender was a Mr. L. Thomas. Jane did not know this name at all and wondered if it could be some sort of mistake.

"Do you know who this is from? She asked her sister.

"Not a clue. Why don't you open it and find out," she suggested.

The wax seal broke easily seeing as how the letter was put together in a dodgy way. The addresser must have been in some hurry. Jane's heart stopped as she began to read the words.

_My dearest Jane,_

_This letter must come to you as quite a shock but I could contain myself no longer. How long has it been since I last beheld your beautiful form? I have not accepted your goodbye. I cannot, will not. You must know that I am a man of my word. When I swore to you that I would not give you up I meant it. I never shall. _

_Even if you only live in my memories from this day forward I will be true._

_Tell me you think of me._

_Tom_

It was a good thing Jane happened to be sitting on her bed. Because in spite of her never being prone to theatrics the contents of the mysterious letter so astonished that she nearly fainted.

Cassandra watched, as her sister's face became shocked and excited. This letter began to worry her.

"My dear Jane what is it?" She asked in haste. The answer was the farthest thing from what she was expecting.

"Tom." Jane replied.


	3. Chapter Two

**AN: I fear I am remiss in forgetting to previously add the no copyright infringement was intended la-de-da.  
**

**So here it goes;**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Now that that is off my proverbial chest lets get on with the story.**

***************

Jane could feel her breath leave her as she read his words, and they were his no doubt. _What was this?_ She wondered looking at the letter in her hands. _What did this mean?_

"My dear Jane what is it?" She heard Cassie ask beside her and knew she must speak. But what to say? She could barley form her thoughts let alone communicate them to another.

"Tom" She gave the only answer she could. How that name rolled from her tongue easily. Even though she had not spoken it since the day she left him at the carriage house.

"What do you mean?" Cassandra asked, unsure of the connection between the mysterious letter and Mr. Lefroy.

"The letter," Jane spoke in a breathy whisper. "He has written to me."

Cassandra was all astonishment. _Was this good news?_ She wondered.

"Have his circumstances changed? Is that why he has written?"

Jane was wondering the same thing. She began to reread the letter, slower this time.

He had addressed her as dearest; she felt her heart flutter at the remembrance of hearing herself thus called by him once before. The body of his letter was determined and very passionate. Much like himself. Jane wanted to give some reassurance to her sister but would need a deal of time to right herself and her feelings.

But time for reflection was not to be had.

"Jane, Cassie," They heard their mother call. "Come down, dinner is ready."

Jane gave her sister a look of panic. She could not bear the thought of the others hearing of this. At least not yet, it would be to much in one evening.

Sensing her sisters fears as well as she would her own Cassandra moved quickly to comfort.

"We need not speak of it. I told no one of the letter before bringing it, for which I am now extremely grateful." She took the letter from Jane's hands and folded it quickly before sliding it into a drawer.

"We must go down to dinner or else we raise mamas suspicions. Are you well enough to attempt it?"

Jane gave a thankful look to her sister and nodded in agreement.

Downstairs in the dining room Mr. and Mrs. Austen were already seated next to one another, as was their usually custom in the privacy of their home. As the number of their children suggested; theirs was a happy and felicitous marriage. But their situation in life had become a great strain. Things were worse now that Jane had turned down her great suitor and poor Richards untimely demise.

It could have been the pressing financial strain that allowed them both to turn a blind eye to the escapades of Henry and Eliza. For they knew their son was a sensible man and Eliza was sincere in her affections. Her fortune would also supply for his needs quite well. They just needed to get them to the church.

Cassandra and Jane went down to diner wearing forced smiles. The former took on the occupation of guiding the conversation so as to draw unnecessary attention away from Jane. Who was very thankful for her sisters deference. Jane felt her stomach contract as she stared at her plate in despondency.

The need to run and read his words again fought with her sense of prudence. She couldn't very well run out of the room like a spoilt child. Though she could stomach no food she meticulously sliced and quartered her meat and sipped her wine intermittently.

"What has you looking so ill?" Mrs. Austen questioned when she perceived her daughters countenance.

She was used to seeing her Jane in less than lively spirits but at the moment she looked quite grave. When she did not immediately answer, her father began to wonder as well.

"Are you unwell Jane?"

"Jane is feeling rather tired," Cassandra answered for her. "I can account for her having not slept well last night. Where is Henry?" She asked once again trying to divert her parents conversation. Her camaraderie with Jane could afford nothing less.

"Oh Jane," her mother clucked. "You must go to bed as soon as you finish your meal."

Realizing that for some reason Jane was not in the mood to talk she turned and answered Cassandra. "My little pug, you see, had gotten away from me when I was walking earlier this evening." Though that case was true, her attention, as well as Henry's had been occupied too long, giving the little animal a chance to wander far. Poor Henry was now, for the cause of love, scouring the immediate countryside in search of the pet.

The rest of the meal passed with little conversation and even that was mild and unassuming. Jane thought of the letter constantly and was thankful for her mothers insistence that she retire to her bed. She walked quickly up the stairs, and after closing the door of her room, went straight to the drawer that held the letter.

She unfolded it and read the words again. _So he still loves me_, she thought. She could well believe it ; her love was still the same. Though as far as she could tell nothing had changed. His uncle was not likely to alter his position on their union. His exclamations of devotion pleased her. He must not be engaged to another then. With a finger she touched the letter and traced the words. His hands had been here.

Before her sister or good sense caught up with her she pulled out pen and paper. Refusing to meditate on her words she let them flow freely onto the page.

_Dear Tom,_

_I am sorry, my dear friend that my word couldn't last as long as yours. _

_When you asked me if I was sure on that fateful morning my answer was truthful. _

_Do you despise me for being inconstant in my opinion?_

_I must assure you again that is was with the greatest intentions and love for yourself, which I could but see no other way._

_I shall think of you always and fondly._

_Yours in affection though not in life,_

_~Jane_

As soon as her name was signed she jumped up from her seat and paced the room. Could she send it? Would she?

Cassandra wondered the same when she entered the room and saw Jane's writing supplies out on the table.

"You will reply?" She asked.

Jane looked up at her but quickly continued her pacing.

"Yes," she began. "No, oh I don't know Cassie."

Jane was in a mood, wringing her hands, and rubbing her eyes. She stopped her pacing suddenly and gave her sister a wild look.

"Tell me what I should do?" She begged Cassie. At present she could not make the decision for herself. For her feelings were flying this way and that, almost hysterical, she could not trust herself.

Being the calm and reasonable creature that she was, Cassandra took her agitated sister by the hand and lead her to the bed. Once they were both settled and comfortable, she gave the best advice she could.

"Was he writing to inform you of his attentions being possible?"

"No," Jane spoke sadly. "The material circumstances have not changed. But neither have his feelings."

"Jane, please do not take offense, but have you considered a secret engagement? Could you two not wait some years, until his Uncle may be prevailed upon or his circumstances in the world become greater?"

"Cassie," Jane spoke quite astonished. "You surprise me with your talk of secrets. Is that your council?"

It seemed so far out of her sisters usual opinions. But Cassandra meant what she proposed. Having lived through the loss of her own love, she would support her sister in her own. That early morning when she chanced upon Jane in the act of fleeing she was at first appalled. But when Jane asked if she could consider the same thing, an elopement, if it meant that she could be with Richard; nothing had ever rung more true.

"Others have done it. If neither of you wants to sever the connection then why not wait. What is there to lose? For Mr. Lefroy, I'm sure is under no pressure from his Uncle to marry, seeing how the old man is unmarried himself. Materially Jane, it would be wise for you or even I to marry, but I doubt either of us will ever have the inclination."

Jane took every one of her sisters words into consideration. Her heart screamed yes but her mind was less sure. Why couldn't things be simple. You fall in love then get married, why should that be so hard?

"Why must life be so complicated for us?" Jane moaned falling back onto the bed.

"I wish I could tell you. The world is not a fair place I fear."

Cassandra laid down next to her sister like they used to when they were children. She stroked her hair in a comforting way.

"At least we will always have each other." Jane whispered.

"Yes we will. But Jane, you have not lost Tom. Not entirely."

"No, not entirely." Jane conceded. "But can it work? Would it be worth it for either of us to pine away for something that may never happen?"

"Your pining now Jane, and according to that letter, he is as well."

"So I should send my reply?" Jane asked one more time.

Cassandra wouldn't answer. She knew Jane needed to make this decision on her own. Giving her a penetrating look she asked "Should you?"

"Yes," Jane spoke quickly. "I think I should."


	4. Chapter Three

**AN: Once again; not my characters, just my imagination.  
**

**Here is a little bit from our Mr. Lefroy.**

**********

He jolted upright in his bed. His skin was hot and sweat had dampened his bed clothes. It was the dream again. The same one that had plagued him for months on end. Almost every night she would come to him. Telling him in his ear that she no longer loved him. That she had never loved him because he was wholly unworthy of any love at all. He never saw her face in the dreams but felt her presence and heard her voice; giving rise to every self doubt he secretly harbored.

Routinely, he got from his bed and went to wash. He noted that his reflection in the mirror was even worse than yesterday. The pain and frustration of losing Jane coupled with the poor sleep he had been getting made him look ten years older. He laughed bitterly when he thought about how far he now was from the preening and prancing of which she had previously accused him.

No, he was not that young man anymore. The realities of life that he had been so studiously avoiding in his philandering had finally caught up to him. It weighed heavy, like a brick on his chest. Never was he able to get a deep breath or ease the aching. He had tried no doubt. After his Uncle had refused to consent to his marrying Jane he had tried to revert back into old habits; tried to hide his feelings away with vice. But she would not be repressed in his memory. She was with him as he walked to the court house every morning. She was with him as he spent every night alone.

He dressed in his black coat as was his usual, and gathered his books. Only half a term left of sitting with the other apprentices before he could take his own entry level position. Any menial law work would be better than sitting under his Uncle day in and day out. He had developed a quiet hatred for the old man that left his insides feeling bitter.

Being the first to arrive, which was also normal for him now, he pulled out his notebook and waited. Allowing his thoughts to drift to Jane as they usually did. _What would she be doing now?_ Writing perhaps or entertaining her family with some wild story. The thoughts almost brought a smile to his lips. But he was forced out of his silent reverie by William nudging his side.

"Wool gathering again Tom?" He spoke far louder than necessary with his breath still smelling of his breakfast.

He gave William Stout the same disinterested look he did everyday. Unfortunately it had yet to impress upon him Tom's desire to be left alone. Everyday the young man tried to make conversation and every day Tom did his best to ignore him.

"I hear we are actually going to get an interesting case to watch this morning. Apparently first up is a man, who they say murdered his own father so he could inherit sooner. George says the evidence is spotty but I say It'll be interesting all the same."

William droned on and Tom tuned him out. The judge soon entered in all his usual pomp. Months of practice enabled Tom to resist rolling his eyes. But no matter his own feeling on his Uncles judgment the man was undoubtedly an excellent judge. The poor bastard up first was lucky to have him and not one of the others. His uncle had a general inclination towards those of the land class.

The day wore on and Tom studiously took down the judiciary notes, and spoke to the other men when absolutely necessary. The gossip amongst the other apprentices, and if Tom was honest, a wide range of people from his former social circle, was that the Miss Waxford had broken his heart, left him shamed and in all regards singularly put out.

He would never bother to correct them. The ill conceived engagement was swiftly ended when her family heard of his failed elopement. Obviously, and for that Tom was forever grateful. Explaining the situation to the judge was punishment enough. The thought of having to explain to the poor girl that he had used her, gave him the chills. There was no end apparently, in his mistakes. Since then he had promised himself that he would be the only party to suffer from his folly.

**********

Once again alone in his rooms his eyes immediately fell to the pen and paper that sat in disarray on his desk. He hadn't dared to touch the things since he wrote that letter to her in a fit of midnight madness. The dreams had been particularly bad last week and he finally broke down, needing to reach out to her for reassurance. For some reason his heart needed to hear of her love for him in order to keep beating. Knowing the hour for dinner was approaching he forbade himself from thinking on it any longer. He knew that her reaction to the letter wouldn't be good. It was wrong of him to send it and put her in the uncomfortable situation. But what is done, is done.

He allowed himself a quick drink before heading down to his daily trial. Dinner with the old man was something he couldn't weasel his way out of. It was also the most trying time of the day. Perhaps that was why he had been getting steadily thinner. Food was much less appetizing when swallowed with heaping doses of his self respect.

"Nephew," he acknowledged him before taking his customary seat at the head of the table. Tom didn't respond knowing that his conversation wasn't required yet.

They both finished the meal in silence. The food was bland in Tom's mouth but the setting was even worse. The weight of the depression he had slipped into was heavier tonight.

"I have good news Thomas," his uncle spoke breaking the delicate silence they had nurtured all these months. He couldn't remember the last time they had an actual conversation in this room. Unwillingly his eyes moved to the chair Jane had sat in on her one visit. She had looked so beautiful in the soft candle light standing up to the old man in her own unique way. God, how he just missed her.

"About?" he asked. Tom couldn't bring himself to soften the sarcastic tone of his question.

His Uncle noticed and fixed him with a glare. But surprisingly didn't comment. "You have," he began in a reluctant voice, "managed to bring your performance up considerably in your studies."

Tom knew that he must have hated to give his insolent nephew anything that even remotely resembled praise.

"Thank you Uncle."

"No don't thank me yet." He said with a way of his hand. "That was not my news."

Both men took a long drink of their wine. Tom couldn't find it within himself to wonder what his Uncle would say next.

"In light of your – better performance, I am now able, without appearing partial, to keep you on as my personal apprentice. You are no doubt surprised, I am equally surprised as well. I did not think you would ever prove yourself worthy. But I am not so set in my ways that I cannot be proved wrong, even when the likelihood was so very dim."

Tom didn't say anything for a long time. He just stared at his faint reflection in the highly polished wood of the table. This was not what he wanted to hear. It was not what he wanted in life. He wondered if it mattered though. He had given up the hope of ever being truly happy. That would be impossible without his Jane. But the one consolation he had was his continued responsibility to his family.

Working directly under the High Court Judge would recommend him much more earnestly then he could on his own. He would no doubt, rise faster and the money would be far superior. It was exactly what someone in his career would wish for. His rational sound mind couldn't deny any of these things. His feelings were less obliging though. He hated that man. Wanted continually to run, get as far away from the one person who had held him under their thumb. Tom resented being controlled. _Could he continue one in the same way?, _he asked himself.

Now was not the time for introspection though. He would have to answer before his silence was taken for disrespect which would inevitably lead to a row.

"That is most generous of you Uncle."

"I know," the old man drawled seeming to require a more specific response from his quite nephew.

"I would be honored for the position." Tom lied through his teeth but knew that anything less would be considered unacceptable to his Uncle.

"At the end of your reviews you will begin immediately with my office. Of course you will continue to live here at bond street. That is unless you have any more romantic notions of marriage." The old man sneered the word.

Tom felt his anger begin to boil. He was mocking him, wanting to get a rise, but he would not give him the pleasure.

"No," he responded coolly despite his irritation. "Of course not."

**********

Tom had stormed back to his rooms in such a state that the lone servant he meet in the hall immediately stopped what they were doing and went back the way they had come. Brandy in hand he paced back and forth in his room. The familiar frustration pulsing through his veins making him jumpy. He would find a way to resign himself, he had to. Unless he could think of a way to get out of the old mans offer. "There is no use," he groaned before refilling his glass. He wouldn't mind getting abhorrently drunk tonight. He didn't usually indulge to such excess but the time seemed right.

After an hour or so of drinking and brooding he was feeling the effect. Another glass and he would be ready to fall into his bed. Undressing down to his pants and shirttails he went to extinguish the candles. Before he could vanquish himself to the darkness there was a low knock at his door.

"What do you want," he growled as he wretched the door open. The poor serving girl shrunk back at his tone. He was to far gone in his dark mood to care.

"Sir, you....you.." she stuttered, "forgot your mail." She thrust the letters at him before dipping a low curtsy and hurrying away.

He shook his head as he closed the door and retreated back into the almost dark room. He took the letters to the one candle still lit and fingered through them quickly. A letter from his mother that could wait until tomorrow and a few general invitations to some gathering or other. His vision was getting blurry and he swayed a little on his feet. The spirits taking a stronger hold. He put the last one, a small thing closer to the light to read the address.

His heart instantly stopped when he saw the feminine script. He tore the letter open, daring to hope that it was what he thought it could be. He quickly glanced over the text before settling on the name of the sender.

"Jane" he declared into to the darkness before sinking back onto his bed and allowing himself to fall into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter Four

AN: Sorry for the delay in posting this. All I can say in my defense is that I have learned not to leave my pink mini laptop, which incidentally looks a lot like a toy, around a three year old.

***********

The air still held it's early morning crispness as Jane and Cassandra set off on the familiar walk to Overton. They kept a leisurely pace down the lane, past the giant yew tree and through the little village of Steventon. They were both avid walkers and took the opportunity to visit the small shops and friends they had in the area as often as they could. Although recent circumstances being what they were, they had neglected this walk for some time.

This morning though, the usual pleasure of the experience was heightened, for Jane especially. Of course the excuse for the trip had been to pick up some odds and ends they knew their mother needed, but in actuality it was the post that called to them. Knowing it would be hard to keep anyone else from noticing Jane's letters from Mr. Lefroy, they decided to head out early to get the mail themselves. Hopefully avoiding any uncomfortable questions.

They narrowly managed to avoid Eliza this morning but only because she seemed to need more sleep than the others. Cassandra and Jane both loved their cousin but she seemed spiteful of Jane's misfortunes. She would not be a part of this new development.

Jane was pleasantly surprised to find she was enjoying the errand. A smile graced her full lips for more than just the prospect of a letter from Tom. It had been ages since she felt free enough to enjoy herself outside of the home. She had timed this trip for the exact amount of days it would take for her letter to reach him and for his to follow, if he wrote back within a day. As foolish as she knew it was, she believed he would.

"It's a beautiful morning isn't it?" Cassandra asked her in a wistful tone.

"Yes," Jane replied quietly. There was little need for conversation they both enjoyed the pleasure of companionable silence.

Cassandra watched her sister's face for any signs of discomfort. Jane was proud and wouldn't allow others to see it, but she knew that it was hard for her to ignore the stares and comments about her failed attachment. Church had been tense but not altogether uncomfortable. This outing would be different though. It was likely they would see and make conversation with the people they had both been studiously avoiding.

It was time though, to get on with it. They couldn't hide forever. Loping her arm though her sisters she decided that if Jane could smile, so could she.

A smile, a few waves, and a simple good morning were all the attentions that had so far been required of her. Jane could feel the relief radiating out of her sister as they made there way though Overton unencumbered. There were people about but the early hour was in their favor. Of the people they had seen none had been of their particular acquaintance.

Jane could feel herself getting almost giddy as they walked up to the Lamppost Inn. A particularly tired looking older gentleman kindly held the door for them as they entered. She wished she had held her breath when she passed his raised arm. By the look Cassandra gave her she knew her sister was thinking the same thing.

The Lamppost was the closet Inn outside of Basingstoke and served many a purpose for the surrounding villagers. The most important to Jane at the moment was that they collected the post before it was sent farther out. In the dim light she could see that there were a few lonely looking travelers eating at the rough wooden tables with a serving girl flitting between them quite gracefully, depositing plates of food and mugs of ale.

At the scent Jane's stomach lurched. She had been too excited to eat any breakfast this morning. Now she wished she had at least grabbed something small to tide her over.

"Can I help you?"

The sisters turned to the large woman who had called out to them. She was sitting behind a long dingy counter that ran the length of the room.

"Yes you can," Jane said walking over to her. "Were here to pick up the post." She tried to sound determined even though she had never done this before. She gave the woman what she attempted to be a friendly smile; it went unreturned.

"Name?" the woman asked in sharp tones.

"Austen," Jane and Cassandra answered at the same time.

The woman gave them both a shrewd look.

"We always send a rider out with your letters and now your picking them up here. Is this going to be a permanent change?"

"No," Jane said quickly but then on further thought continued. "Unless someone comes in the morning to collect them please continue to have them sent on."

"I'll make a note of it. One minute please."

The woman ducked down and seemed to be looking for something. Jane could feel her heart sputter with anticipation. But what if it wasn't there? Her anticipation quickly turned to dread but then just as quickly went back to excitement.

"Ah, here we are." The woman said coming up with a short stake of letters.

Cassandra watched her sister squirm and fidget as the proprietor's wife looked for their mail. If she didn't know better shed think her sister was in a snit. Jane's rushed words and harsh expression were no doubt the reason for the woman's own curt behavior. What her poor Jane must be feeling. The smile she tried to give earlier was almost laughable. As the women held the letters out she noticed that Jane didn't move. She just stood their staring at them.

Cassandra quickly grabbed a coin from her purse and laid it on the counter.

"Thank you," she said taking the letters. The woman nodded before going back to her work.

"Lets go," she said softly, taking her sister arm and leading her out of the Inn.

Jane followed obediently until the bright morning light hit her eyes and she squinted with the contrast from the dark Inn. It was enough to wake her from her self-imposed stupor. Turning quickly to her sister she reached out for the letters, but then froze.

"You look." She said closing her eyes and taking a deep steadying breath. Part of her knew she would laugh at her behavior later on, at the moment though she was content to act like a silly over emotional girl.

She opened her eyes to her sisters smiling face. It couldn't be bad news then. Without a word Cassandra handed her the small square of parchment. For a minute she allowed herself to run her fingers along the paper and admire her name written in his strong script. How could receiving a letter be so pleasurable? She hadn't even read it yet.

At that thought she looked around and remembered they were standing on a busy street and no doubt attracting the attention of the local gossips. She tucked the letter safely away in her purse. She would just have to wait until they got home to read it.

"Come on Cassie," she said taking her arm and turning immediately back the way they came. Cassandra didn't argue but instantly knew that they would be walking much faster home then they did coming.

Cassandra kept up with her sisters determined strides even though she was feeling winded. Jane was in a hurry to get home and read her letter. She couldn't begrudge her that. They were almost home when they turned onto the lane that led through Steventon and saw something that was destined to hold them up.

Mrs. and Miss Smith were standing outside their cottage saying their hellos to anyone passing by. Why had she not thought of them? Jane knew they came out every afternoon in search of company, and yet she had forgotten that they would most likely run into them on their way back home.

"There will be no avoiding it now," Cassandra whispered, "they've seem us."

"We shall just have to be polite and do our best to extricate ourselves before dinner time." Jane replied jokingly to her sister. Cassandra was right, there was nothing to be done about it now.

"Ah," Miss Smith called out, "if it isn't the Miss Austen's. How wonderful to see you this morning. I was just saying to mama that it had been many weeks since we've had your company. No illnesses I hope?"

"Oh but of course not," she continued not waiting for an answer. "I would have heard from Mr. Jenson if anyone of our acquaintance was unwell. He comes quite regular you know, to see mama. But don't trouble yourselves with worry she is quite healthy."

"That is good to hear. Your garden is looking lovely." Cassandra said by way of a diversion before Miss. Smith could continue.

"Oh yes. But come and see the roses." She said before walking to the side of the cottage leaving her mother to stand and stare at seemingly nothing. Cassandra and Jane followed knowing this was a regular occurrence. Mrs. Smith was practically blind and almost deaf.

Unfortunately neither Jane nor Cassandras compliments to her garden could distract her for long.

"Oh what am I prattling on about now, you must come in and take tea with us." Miss Smith said exactly what Jane was hoping she wouldn't.

"Do not you think so Mama?" She called loudly.

"We would not wish to impose on you. We were not expected." Jane rushed trying to avoid accepting the invitation. Which was in the end, futile.

After much fussing from Miss Smith and many pointed glances between Jane and Cassandra they were all seated in the small sitting room of the Smith's cottage drinking their tea and making small talk. Jane let Cassandra carry most of the formal conversation topics while she tried to keep herself from eating more cakes than was proper for an afternoon tea. Once again she wished she had taken breakfast.

Her purse, which contained Tom's letter, sat squarely in her lap. She tried her best but couldn't help staring at it. It felt like it would burn a hole through her skirts. Drifting from the conversation she found her self-wondering what he had written. She tried pictured him writing it. Would he be serious and passionate as his fist letter suggested? Or was he more composed when he wrote this? The romantic part of her hoped it was the former. She wanted him to be just as affected as she was.

"Jane," she heard someone call her name and was instantly brought out of her daydreams.

"Forgive me, I'm feeling a bit tired this morning." She tried to explain.

"Are you sure you are not unwell? You look rather flushed." Miss Smith asked with concern written on her face.

"Should I get you a glass of wine?"

"No thank you, I am fine. It has been a while since I took such a long walk. I fear I have overexerted myself."

Miss Smith set her cup down and peered at her in a strange way. Jane knew that whatever she was going to say next, she wouldn't like.

"I have to tell you Miss Austen, you are very brave. Very brave indeed, showing such a strong face after the – incident. Mama and I knew that young man must have used you very ill indeed. And anyone who would look down on you because of it is not worth your time. Your true friends will stand by you, don't you worry about that."

Jane could feel her face going white at her words. This was not something she wanted, or even expected to hear. Although it was better than the snide remarks she knew would eventually come her way, this somehow seemed worse. Because in the eyes of the neighborhood spinster she saw pity. Jane felt anger and embarrassment in equal measure.

"That is very kind of you to say but I'm sure neither Jane nor I have any comment on that account." Cassandra said coolly. She knew she needed to get Jane out of there. Miss Smith meant well but the condescension was too much to bear at the moment.

Miss Smith had the decency to look rebuked and kept quite. Cassandra knew from experience though that it wouldn't last long.

"Thank you so much for having us, but I fear I must get Jane home now. She is excessively tired at the moment. Please feel free to return the call when you are available."

Jane and Cassandra stood quickly and made their goodbyes to the women.

"Feel better dear. Call for Mr. Jenson if you have need." They heard Miss Smith call out to them as they walked toward home. Neither of them turned to look though.

Jane was incredibly thankful that her sister had gotten them out of there so quickly but wasn't ready to put words to her gratitude yet. She was lost in the maelstrom of her emotions. To be so happy at the prospect of reading the letter from Tom and then to be humiliated with the reminder of their foolish actions was more than she could process.

By God she loved him, but her throat burned with the embarrassment of having been pitied by that insufferable woman. She had a foreboding feeling of dread as the stopped and stood at the gate of her home. Could continuing her relationship with Tom bring anything other than ruin? For a minute she didn't know.

"Go read your letter." Cassie said softly in her ear before leading her over the makeshift bench by the road.

"I'll see you inside." She said before turning towards the house.

Jane sat there very still for a minute before taking out the letter and studying it again. She shook her heard in confusion before opening it to read.

_Dearest Jane,_

_How I wish I had the command of words as you do. I don't think my meager attempt to describe the feelings I had when I received your letter would do your descriptive sensibilities justice. Let me just say that it was a experience I sincerely hope is repeated._

_Honestly, I had been angry and disappointed with myself for writing to you in the first place. If I were a better man with stronger convictions I would leave you be. But I am selfish; as you well know by now. At present you will find that my thoughts have been only of my own misery. You and your own good nature are much better off without my interference._

_Yet, as I said before, I cannot - will not - let you go. I may be corruptible and disillusioned but I am constant. My one virtue you could say. Let that be my defense in what I am selfishly going to ask of you._

_Wait for me Jane, please. I have not even begun to think practically, but I know my self and I will wait for you until the end. But know that I would not begrudge you if you choose not to honor my request. I know how much I am asking of you._

_Write to me again; let me know your thoughts as I wish you to know mine. I will go uncertain of my fate until I hear from you again._

_Tom_

And with that her confusion was gone. Their love could never be anything other than right, other than perfect.


	6. Chapter Five

AN: When I originally started this story it was just a series of letters between Jane and Tom with very little filler in between. I have gone over and over them and have decided to post a series of the letters as a stand alone part of the story. They are self explanatory and the autonomy of the correspondence without added detail really conveys the mood I want to set. So just so no one is confused with the way the story is headed; I will be updating the letters individually in their own chapters. Obviously the chapters will be relatively short but will be updated daily for the next week or so.

First up is Jane, enjoy!

**********

_Dearest Tom,_

_I received your letter this morning and I have only now had the opportunity to sit and pen this response; it is well after midnight. I know you shall not be surprised, shrewd and observing as you are, when I tell you that our most beloved Henry has finally mustered the courage to make his intentions towards Eliza known to his family. I know what you are thinking and I agree. It took him long enough._

_Of course mother and father are in a bit of an uproar. I do suppose though that they are not as surprised as they seem. You would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see their attachment to each other. Poor George has been asking me for weeks now when they would marry. I confess I am impatient for that day as well. The removal of the two most, how shall I say it, expensive members of the household will bring much relief to my father. We shall all benefit from their union, and in more ways than one._

_Cassandra and I firmly believe that things at Steventon will settle into a peaceful familial environment when the passionate and, dare I say, indecorous, lovers are removed from the confines of this house. Father will once again have the quiet he needs for his sermons and mother will have much less to plague her nerves. Although it may leave her feeling bereft of excitement. Especially since she has come to admit defeat in the prospect of marrying off her daughters. She doesn't seem to be able to bring herself to hope that Cassandra will ever forget Mr. Fowl and my inability to marry anyone is quite fixed in her mind. I am happy of it._

_Ever since the horrors of the great lady, who's name we both know but shall not speak, and the insufferable Mr. Warren, I feel incapable of handling any addresses to myself with any more grace than one would show a lame animal. I should like a gun so I could put them out of their misguided romantic misery. I cannot deny that I am thankful that my charms were enough to attract your attention but if one more man declares his love me for me I will pull my hair out while screaming a litany of improper words._

_But back to your letter._

_I fear, dear friend, that when you praise my descriptive sensibilities you are under a misapprehension. I suffer from an overindulgence of adjectives. Which as any good writer knows is often as crippling to the expression of true feelings than that of a lacking pros. Honest sentiments are often best conveyed with poignant brevity. Although I must confess it is a skill which I do not possess; as you will no doubt become painfully aware of now that you have received my letters._

_I could of course go on and on about the subject of myself and my many talents, or as the case is in this letter; the lack thereof, but it will only be to delay writing the inevitable. I have thought for many hours on how I would word my response to your question. Alas wit and flowery words fail me and I can only answer yes. Yes I shall wait for you, my only love, until the day comes that we can be together. Because as you so aptly put it once before, 'What value will there be in life if we are not together'?_

_So let my answer be the the end to all your talk of selfishness and self recriminations. For if you are selfish than so am I; and selfishness must always be forgiven, for there is no hope of a cure._

_Yours with unending love,_

_Jane_


	7. Chapter Six

AN: Just to let you guys know I have purposefully not dated these letters. I intend to have them cover a few months between mid summer until late fall when the storyline will get more complex.

More Tom now, Ya!

**********

_Jane,_

_How is it you so easily know my mind? You are completely correct in my response to the news of Henry's engagement. It is about time. I had wondered how long it would take for Madam de Feuillide__ to make an honest man out of him. Tell me, has he secured his captaincy?_

_It is nice to hear that they will be happy. I know it is quite morose of me to comment, but someone should be. Not that I am completely miserable anymore. Reading your letters has not only soothed my poor pathetic heart but they have become quite entertaining. Your description on how you would like to reject your numerous suitors was... enlightening. Rest assured my love that when we are married, and if we aren't completely decrepit and infirm, you shall have your gun. If only to save myself the unpleasant task of chasing off your wayward paramours._

_You will probably chastise me greatly for saying this but I had the most delightful image of your pretty little mouth forming words you shouldn't be allowed to know. Terrible of me I know, but I must stay true to my character. I will not take offense if you were to write me back with the most scaling insult to my poor character. Actually I would quite enjoy it._

_You see there is little else to occupy my thoughts but you these days. I have had the great misfortune to fall into my Uncles good graces, which for the life of me I can't imagine how I managed it. The result of said misfortune is that I am forced to spend more time with him than any sensible person would allow. He has taken me under his proverbial wing and I am now working in his office under his most officious care. Pity me my love._

_Enough though of my omnipresent woes; how is your writing? Does anything your working on have a pretentious Irishman of dubious intent wrecking havoc upon the unsuspecting country populous? If not then I am deeply disappointed. I might not be good for much but even I know that I would be good literary fodder. Your stories must have a villain.  
_

_Jane, how I miss you. Reading your letters has been like a sweet torture. I love to read your words but they leave me longing to hear your voice. I am not sure that I am adequately explaining myself. I would say that I pine for you but that is far too prosaic for me. I hope you get the gist of what I'm trying to convey in regards to my feelings._

_Part of me is elated at your answer. That little yes meant more to me than you will ever know. Yet the more sensible part of me is constantly aware that I may be holding you to a fools promise. What if things do not change? Can I live with myself if I make you wait year after year before you can claim your place by my side?_

_This whole situation is very frustrating. Although until a few short weeks ago it was even worse. At least I am secure in your love an affection. How quickly I forget that it has been given to me so undeservedly. You must forgive my depressing correspondence this time. I fear that I am not well suited for waiting. Patience has never been one of my virtues. Yet I hope that like my selfishness it can be forgiven. Because I fear that when the waiting is for something as cherished as you, I shall never be patient.  
_

_Yours,_

_Tom_

_P.S. I hope you realize that I expect an immediate response to the following question. What happened with that imbecile Warren?_


	8. Chapter Seven

AN: I just want to say an enthusiastic thank you very much to everyone who's read and reviewed. It is greatly appreciated.

********

_My Dear Tom,_

_I see that you have not lost any of your wickedness. Not even in light of your present good behavior. I'm glad of it. Although I am practically scandalized by the inner workings of your mind, well almost anyway. But if you are very good I may oblige you at some point in the future. Rest assured Mr. Lefroy that while I probably shouldn't know any number of words I am more than apt at pronouncing them._

_One of the best things about having you back in my life, even if it is only partially, is the ability to allow my own wicked nature an outlet. Poor Cassandra has to put up with my foul moods and temper more than she should and my sardonic sense of humor is by far too much for her. But you my friend seem to have the constitution necessary to be a companion to one such as myself. Do you consider yourself lucky? I most certainly do; a husband who will provide me a gun, how scandalous!_

_Well, on to the more serious topics of conversation. I am sorry that you are not enjoying your employment at present. If it is any conciliation I have not written much since my last trip to London. Your excuse though is far more tangible than mine. The dour Judge must be a very difficult person to work with, especially considering you live with him as well. You are brilliant though Tom, and I don't pay the compliment lightly. I have every confidence that you will work the situation to the best of your ability. You must also have the same faith in me. I confess that my hiatus from my writing has come to an end but I am almost afraid to continue. I find myself in a more complex mental and emotional state; I almost don't know how to channel it. My only hope is that I will be able to bring a greater depth and maturity to my work that I will admit had been lacking before. Cross your fingers and I will let you know._

_Unfortunately I do not have any Irish rouges at present in my latest story. But before you begin to feel too put out I will say that there is a character who shares a fair amount a personality traits with yourself. Whether they are the good or bad will be for you to decide when you eventually read it. I think you would enjoy it though._

_Things here have been busier than usual with preparations for the wedding. Henry and Eliza have elected to have father marry them here at Steventon. We were all rather surprised that Eliza didn't want something more refined. Everyone's spirits are higher with such an exciting event on the horizon. Mine might be a little less enthusiastic, but let us keep that between ourselves._

_Henry did purchase his captaincy and after the wedding they will be traveling to Plymouth for his first station. I cannot imagine my cousin aboard a frigate but we all do strange things for love. I so wish you would be able to attend but I know it is quite impossible. The waiting is hard on me as well. I just take care to remind myself daily to be thankful to have your love. It very well may be a few years before we can settle together but I am certain you are worth the wait._

_Finally though we get to your persistent question. What of Mr. Warren? You will have to forgive me for mentioning the situation so offhandedly in my last letter. I had quite forgotten that you did not know the details of that event and how disastrous it was for us both. Let me try and explain._

_Apparently our timid and soft spoken Mr. Warren had been quite in love with me for some time. Terrible, I know. Somehow I seemed to have mistaken his feelings of friendship and never once did I ever entertain the idea that he may have any intentions towards me. Mr. Warren had not been at all happy with our attachment and when presented with the information of our travel to London he took actions that had far reaching consequences. You will no longer be in any doubt of who wrote the Judge that day. I did to have this information until after our failed elopement. I had been under the assumption that the letter had come from or on behalf of Mr. Wisely._

_Now we come to the particular event. The afternoon that I returned home after parting from you at the post station, I was not more than two minutes in the house before Mr. Warren found me. My family had been out looking for me and we were alone. He finally saw his opening and took it. He proceeded to profess his undying love for me and offer me his hand. I believe my last letter gave you an indication on how I felt at that moment. After refusing him as politely as I was able under the circumstances I made to extricate myself from his company. It was then that it suddenly dawned on me. He was the one who wrote the judge._

_I don't know if you will believe it but I almost struck him. Some days I still wish I had. So that my dearest is the account of the Warren situation. It was most likely one of the worst days of my life. But now I can look back on it with a little humor. It may have been the most frustrating and uncomfortable proposal I have ever received but at least it was ripe with irony. Which I can appreciate in all things._

_Now that I have finally finished that account I must adieu._

_All my love,_

_Jane_


	9. Chapter Eight

**********

There are certain days designed by God for weddings. Late summer mornings flooded with pale yellow light. A soft breeze carrying the scent of hundreds of flowers hand picked and arranged to compliment the bride. Eliza was a vision in ivory silk and cascading brunette curls. She had always been beautiful but today she was glorious. Henry of course was as dashing as ever in his vibrant red regimentals. The pews were packed full and all eyes were drawn to where the bride and groom stood flanked by Jane and Cassandra as the requisite maids. Jane clasped her hands in front of her as the organ music came to a close and her father started the ceremony. She had been to more than her fair share of weddings and contented herself with admiring the general splendor of the day. The words were always the same and her fathers voice seemed to tune out into a gentle hum. Her thoughts drifted inevitably to Tom but she knew that she had to keep her feelings in check today, their was too much riding on her performance. Friends and neighbors were all gathered for Henry and Eliza's wedding. It would be the first occasion that she was in company with most of them in months. She would need to be the Jane they all knew before Tom, happy and carefree. The time to hide from their distasteful judgments had passed. It was on her now to prove to them all that she was the same and therefor deserved the same treatment. Taking a quick glance across the church she knew it would be easier said than done.

If she was being honest with herself though only one family really mattered; the Lefroy's. They had been in close company for years and the loss of friendship was a hardship for both families. The situation being what it was, a temporary separation seemed unavoidable. The thought of sitting down to tea with his aunt while she had nothing on her mind but the ladies nephew had seemed daunting. It was avoided for as long as possible. Now was judgment day. Jane smiled at her own maudlin line of thinking. It wasn't really appropriate given the present circumstance. Her brother was getting married for heavens sake. She should endeavor to be more pleasant.

She reigned in her wandering attention in just in time to see Henry take his bride up into a passionate kiss. Cassandras reproachful expression caught her eye and she chocked back a laugh. Typical. She would have to remember to add that little tid-bit in her next letter. Tom would not doubt find humor in it.

The procession from the church to the wedding luncheon was a swirling mass of music, flowers and well wishes. Jane easily lost herself in the celebratory mood and found herself feeling quite contented. Cassandra was having a more difficult time. She was too good to acknowledge her feelings for what they were. Instead she pushed the deep sadness aside and dwelt on the wonder of the couples love. They were fortunate indeed to not only have found one another but to have attained the status of marriage. Something she knew she would never have within her sights again. It was those thoughts that threatened to keep the joy from her face. She was truly and sincerely happy for her brother. No amount of regret on her part could dim the delight she felt when she looked upon the happy couple. The pain of her loss would always be with her so she endeavored to enjoy herself the only way she knew how.

"Henry is a demonstrative man but did he really need to make such a spectacle?" She spoke low into Jane's ear before turning back to her plate. She sisters lip turned up into a smirk and she knew she had bated Jane into what would prove to be a most entertaining conversation.

"The kiss.. well I can't say I was surprised. But did you see the look on Miss Smiths face? I do believe between Henry and myself we will completely scandalize the family."

"At least he's finally married." Cassandra quipped mimicking Miss Smiths affected accent.

Jane couldn't hold back her laugh so she tried to quickly disguise it as a cough.

"You are quick humorous today." She said pointedly to her sister. "I might even venture to say your acting as bad as me." Jane was please to see Cassie in such good humor. She knew the wedding couldn't have been easy for her to experience. Her own memories of Tom were bitter sweet today. How much worse would Cassandra's be for her own lost love?

As in most things of late they stuck close to each other. Each sister knowing what they other was feeling and trying to buoy the other with kind words and actions. Humor seemed to be the balm for the day so they allowed their banter to flow readily throughout the meal. Keeping their comments restricted to those of the party of little consequence and vehemently ignoring the task before them.

The table was full and Mrs. Lefroy was seated at the opposite end of where the Austen family sat. The cake had been cut and passed and the guests were rising to see the couple off. Jane and Cassandra stood arm in arm as Henry and Eliza made their way the the waiting carriage. Instead of throwing rice they stood quietly by, memorizing the last blissful images of the morning. As the carriage pulled away Jane's nerves reared their ugly head. Her stomach churned and her head began to ache. She wasn't exactly sure when it happened but apparently she had become quite the coward.

Mr. and Mrs. Lefroy began to make their way over to the two young women. Mrs. Lefroy decided not to acknowledge Jane's obvious nervous tension and greeted her warmly.

"It was a lovely wedding. We were so glad to have been included among the guests."

"We were just happy you could join us." Cassandra replied steering the conversation with social pleasantries.

"How have you ladies been this season? We haven't seen much of either of you. I hope that will soon change.

"We have been well, have we not Jane?"

"We have." Jane answered. "I hope we shall see more of you as well Mrs. Lefroy."

The two woman looked at each other in silent acknowledgment of things past and acceptance of friendship to come. Jane had been so worried that Mrs. Lefoy would hold her responsible for everything that happen with Tom. But it seemed the older woman was willing to look past that and continue their acquaintance in spite of the interlude with her nephew. The information made Jane feel as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"When ever you ladies and your mother are available next week I hope you will take the time to call. Lucy and I would enjoy catching up with you all.

"That is very kind of you. We will certainly pay the call." Jane gave her a winning smile as a thanks which was returned just as warmly.

Shortly after that the Lefroys drifted away and Jane made easy conversation with the rest of the guests. Most people were as polite as ever with the exception of a few colder greetings. In retrospect though Jane considered the whole event to be a success.

***********

"How do you feel now that its finally over?" Cassandra asked her as they retired to their room. The day had been long and tiring with many pent up emotions. But their was a feeling of satisfaction that seemed to settle over the whole house.

"It is a relief," she said settling herself onto the soft mattress. "To finally put myself out among people again. No more pretending." She said while slowly removing the pins from her hair. "Of course I'm thrilled too that Henry is finally married and settled. One less thing for us to worry about."

"I think I understand exactly what you are saying. It is my hope that things can begin to return to normal."

"It's mine as well. Not that I don't enjoy the Smiths company." she said ruefully. "But even you, sweet Cassie, have to admit that it would be beneficial to widen our circle of society to something more like it used to be."

Cassandra just smiled at her sister and settled into bed, hoping to find sleep quickly. She knew Jane had received a letter today but hadn't had the chance to read it. She would give her as much privacy as possible, so closed her eyes and willed her body to relax. Maybe she would dream of Robert tonight.

Once Cassandra's breathing evened and slowed, Jane knew it was safe to take out her letter. She had read previous letters in front of her sister but after the long day, she wanted to enjoy Toms words in solitude, without anyone aware of her expressions and mannerisms.

Slipping her finger under the wax seal she broke it swiftly and silently unfolded the letter. She was instantly disappointed to see that the page contained only a few lines. A disheartening number of words compared to his usual correspondence. Though her irritation instantly turned to excitement as she read.

_Jane,_

_Forgive me for this hasty letter but my time is not my own at present. All I can say at the moment is that in a weeks time I should be able to write again in a longer and more detailed account of my days. But hold out a little longer, for the next letter should have great news._

_I love you my dear,_

_Tom_

What could this great news be? Knowing Tom it could mean any number of things. Once again Jane resigned her self to waiting. Patience was something she was beginning to have in abundance.


	10. Chapter Nine

**AN: Sorry this took so long to get posted. FF was giving me a hard time uploading.**

**Any names you did not already recognize are my creations. I will say though that they are meant to be a sort of caricature of some of the characters in Jane's stories. It's my attempt to show some possible sources of inspiration.**

***********

William Stratford was a simple, congenial man. He had tried on many occasions to befriend the reclusive Tom Lefroy. No matter how cordial or easy he was in manner the other young man never seemed to notice. Every attempt to draw him into conversation had failed and at length William had decided it was no longer worth his time. For Tom Lefroy seemed to be a hopeless case, he had few friends and even less humor. Or at least that was what William believed until he heard an unmistakably jolly laugh coming from his neighbors mouth.

He looked over the see the man in question holding a letter and shaking with laughter.

"You all right there?" he asked. Almost afraid Tom would snap at him for asking.

He didn't seem to notice William had said anything for a moment. Then suddenly he looked up with shining and eyes and said "Yes. Everything is exactly right." Before turning back to his letter.

**********

Tom knew he must have looked ridiculous but couldn't bring himself to care. She was just so....Jane. He didn't know how else to describe it. He couldn't imagine anyone sending him a letter so to the point. He could envision her frowning at the his hastily penned letter from last week. Of course Jane would have had to remind him that she would be waiting for his explanation. He couldn't help the laughter that escaped him with her words.

_My Dear,_

_It better be great._

_Love,_

_Jane_

Short, to the point, and completely Jane. It made his day, no it made his week. She was no doubt annoyed with him, but it would have to wait. He didn't want to tell her his news until it was all settled. It was also the truth that his time was not his own. The work with his uncle was tedious and time consuming. He was accustomed to it though and managed with little trouble. The real constraint to his time was the work he was doing on the side with Kensington.

They had worked together on a case recently and found that their personalities were well suited for partnership. Kensington had been doing law consultation for hire in his spare time. It didn't make much money but they thought that between the two of them they had the tenants for a working business. Their plans gave him reason to hope for the future. A future where he could be dependent on himself. These lofty dreams required work though. Which is why he was exhausted enough to laugh loudly while surrounded by his colleagues. No doubt poor William was still reeling from his uncharacteristic outburst.

He muttered a hasty 'excuse me' before returning to his work. He would need to skive out early from the office today and didn't want to leave any cause for the Judge to rail about. There would be no work left upon his desk.

***********

The tavern was well lit and nicely appointed. Tom wasn't completely pleased that they were having such an important gathering in a local tavern but there options were limited. He could not expect Kensington to entertain them in his humble dwelling and having their meeting under the Judges roof would be madness. So they would make do with what was available to them. He spoke quickly to the serving girl and procured a clean table closest to the fire where he sat to wait however impatiently for his comrade to appear.

He resisted ordering a drink and instead occupied himself with rehearsing his notes and straightening his jacket. Smoothing out the dark green wool he smiled knowingly. It wasn't the velvet he previously preferred but the color was just as rich. Idly he wondered if Jane would like it.

Frank Kensington was a tall man who was as lean and gangly as a newborn colt. Watching him walk would inevitably put you off from wanting to know him. But his warm and friendly nature quickly overrode that instinctual response. His unimpressive looks carefully disguised his keen mind. The subterfuge was something Tom recognized and admired. Both men were very alike in that way. Neither were really what they presented to the world. Tom had to admit that it was enjoyable to have a friend again.

"Fancy meeting you here." Kensington quipped while folding himself, quite ungracefully, into the short backed wooden chair.

"Small town." Tom couldn't help bantering with him.

"Ha, right you are old man. So any last words before we sell our souls?" Kensington asked in a joking manner but with a hint of truth. It was a good approximation of what they were about to do. If this deal went through both theirs lives would be intrinsically tied to this plan.

Tom folded his hands behind his head in a brutish display of confidence. It was a gesture he had used frequently since childhood. He mulled over the thought of last words for a minute then decided against uttering any. Last words were for endings; tonight, he hoped, would be about beginnings.

***********

"We wont settle for any thing longer than a three month turn over."

Tom had been walking the fine line between persistent and pushy for the last hour of negotiations. Kensington had been approached by one Mr. Charles Barnes attorney, about the sale of his rather profitable business. Mr. Barnes had no children was a confirmed bachelor for all of his sixty years. His partner had passed away last year and he complained constantly of being too old and infirm to carry on running the firm on his own.

So rather than tracking down some obscure relative to inherit all his hard work he devised a plan to overturn ownership and retire profitably in Surrey of all places. Neither Tom nor Frank had the capital to purchase the firm out right, but that's what this meeting had been for. They were fairly confident, that between the two of them, they could negotiate something with the man.

"And I say six months is more than reasonable." The old man was driving a hard bargain.

"Why don't we meet in the middle and saw four and a half?" Kensington, the softer voice of reason said.

"If that's the only condition left to agree on I have no problem accepting four and a half." Tom conceded.

"So what do you say Barnes? We have a deal?"

Both younger men stared at the older from across the table. There was a slight twitch in his left eye but other than that his face was unreadable. For a few minuted none of the party spoke a word and Tom began to worry that they had pushed their luck too far.

But eventually the older mans face seemed to soften and his lips twitched up into a sad excuse for a smile. "I still think your asking for too many concessions but I like you both. Lets just get this over and done with. I'd like to be out of this god forsaken city by next summer."

"You most certainly shall. If you are available we could write the contract up and have it ready to sign by the end of the week."

Bolstered by the agreement they had reached Tom quickly tied up all the loose ends and spoke the required pleasantries. I wouldn't do to have their new business associate think they were completely bereft of manners. Even if said manners weren't obviously present during the previous hour.

"I look forward to working with you gentlemen, but now I fear I must retire. These late hours are not kind to my aged constitution."

"Certainly sir," Tom said taking the mans hand in a firm yet clammy handshake.

"I think congratulations are in order," he said after Kensington had made his goodbyes and Mr. Barnes was safely out of earshot.

Giving his trademark lopsided smile, Kensington took a deep flourishing bow. "Your congratulations are most heartily accepted." He gave the shorter man a solid slap on the back before propelling him towards the bar.

"This calls for a least a few drinks, if not a barrel."

Tom fixed him with a glare before his friend quickly allied his fears.

"Do not worry so Lefroy. I shan't keep you out passed your bed time."

"How kind." Tom responded but without any real sarcasm. He rather felt like a drink himself. He had been diligently keeping sober over the last few months, since Jane had come back into his life. Tonight would be an exception to the rule though. For as much as he knew it would be irresponsible to write to her when he was spirited, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to celebrate the one thing he'd manage to accomplish that might bring him closer to her.

***********

It was some time later that he stood pacing his rooms, pen in hand but mind empty of the right words. He was almost too excited to explain himself on paper. All he had managed to convey so far was a sparse retelling of facts. She would not appreciate that. Especially not after his last disappointing letter to her. He grabbed at his hair in frustration with himself. This would not do.

Resigned to the fact that wearing a hole in his floor wouldn't be any assistance to his current dilemma, he sank heavily into the warm leather armchair that sat closet the the hearth. Having one last idea he closed his eyes and imaged Jane in this very room with him. He imaged her a chair to match his own as they sat quietly before the fire enjoying each others quite company.

He stared openly at her in his imagination, appreciating the way the soft light from the fire made her eyes dark and her hair shine. The shadows that ebbed and flowed across her pale skin would highlight the hollow of her throat and the soft curve of her collarbones. His dream Jane would give him a mischievous smile, as if she knew exactly what he had been thinking.

God how he loved her. The woman was a lesson in dichotomy; equal parts innocence and temptation, all wrapped up in a soft and warm package, decorated with a captivating wit. In other words designed to be almost irresistible to one Tom Lefroy. A traitorous voice in the back of his mind questioned why he would have resist her. After all it was his imagination, what was to stop his dream self from reaching out, pulling her into his lap, digging his fingers deep into her silky hair and claiming her mouth in a hot moist kiss.

"Hell!" He said loudly, jerking upright in his chair, eyes wide open, trying to adjust to the light. He must have been indulging in that train of thought longer than he intended. Maybe he should put off writing until tomorrow. Heaven knows he couldn't afford to let his thoughts drift that way twice in one night. He might just wake up and find himself on the road to Hampshire with every intention of stealing her away, and then where would they be.


	11. Chapter Ten

_Tom,_

_I realize that I just sent my little missive two days ago, but I couldn't keep from writing again. I do want to know what your news is, desperately in fact, but I am confident that you will inform me as soon as you are able. I hope you didn't take my note the wrong way. So as a sign of good faith I decided that I could write to you again instead of waiting for your response. It's perfectly sensible, is it not? Besides, I knew you would be waiting on pins and needles for a detailed description of the wedding. Men often pretend to think little of these things but you by dear must enjoy it._

_Yes, I am laughing at you. You must forgive me though because at the moment of writing this, I'm in quite a happy mood. I shall tell you why in a moment. First I shall regale you with all the boring little details of the wedding between your two favorite people. Starting with the weather, which was perfection. Nary a cloud in the sky and it was not too hot. The bride was everything lovely in ivory satin and lace from Paris. Everyone was in raptures over it, although it was a little low cut for my personal taste. It's a wonder how she gets away with it. Our groom was as dashing as ever. The red regimentals are quite complimentary with his fair coloring. It convinced me to insist that Cassandra wear more red. I of course can not manage the color. I had the unfortunate luck to be born with dark hair._

_The ceremony was in my fathers traditional economical style and was performed with as much elegance as could be expected in a country chapel. There had been speculation that the bride would not be quite satisfied with the arrangements, but if that was the case you would never know it. Eliza was luminescent in her happiness. The luncheon was comfortable and the food quite delicious. There was more variety of dishes than I suspect was really necessary but not one guest went away not proclaiming high praise of the meal._

_Now though I shall get into the more interesting news, the guests. Needless to say everyone that was invited did indeed attend. It was the perfect opportunity to reacquaint myself with some of the families that I had seen little of since the story of our running away was passed around. You must be proud of me though because I behaved myself very well and even succeeded in swaying a few of the more difficult guests back into my favor. The most promising part of the day was when I spoke with your aunt, Mrs. Lefroy. The meeting took place with only the best possible outcome being the result. You cannot know how pleased I was at that. All prejudice or derision was put aside, and though not quite the same, the warmth with which she greeted me left me in no doubt of her continuing affections. We are slated to have them over for tea Thursday next. I know it's not much but renewing the friendly relations with your family can only be a boon to our situation._

_Now back to why I'm in such a jolly mood. I don't know if the feelings will translate but I have had the most spectacular, creative, inspirational, romantic, prolific, and intense writing session. I dare say session in not quite the right word, for it lasted two whole days and nights. The novel I began in London is finally coming together and I must admit I am very pleased with my progress. I can not wait to share it with you._

_I should finish this letter though. Two nights of little to no sleep has left me quite exhausted. Please hurry and try to write again. I miss reading something new._

_All my love,_

_Jane_


	12. Chapter Eleven

**AN: Once again I want to thank everyone who is reading, alerting, and reviewing. I will never be an author to beg for reviews and this story will be updated whether or not I receive any. But I cannot deny that they are nice, and I am more than willing to receive feedback, positive and negative, about this story. So if any of my readers have questions and/or suggestions I would enjoy hearing them :)**

**********

_Jane,_

_I do not even know where to start with this letter. There is so much I yearn to convey, to explain. I wish we were together, so you could see my excitement and I could read the expression in your eyes. Of course that is not the only reason I wish we were together corporeally. But I do not think I should expound on that count._

_Firstly, I am happy that Henry and Eliza's wedding was such a success, and that you enjoyed yourself. I do not believe you could ever comprehend the grief I feel when I think on what you have suffered because of me. Continue, my dear, to enjoy the society of those around you. No one could possibly remember my rakish ways when met with your charm and vivacity. You are above reproach. My aunt is a level headed woman who no doubt still has as much affection for you as ever. It pleases me to know that you will be renewing the relationship with my family. They, like everyone else, is better for knowing you. I shall enjoy picturing you in the familiar rooms of the lodge once again. The library in particular. Sometimes I shudder to think of the flirtatious things I said to you there. I could never seem to control my tongue when in your presence._

_Do you know that I cannot enter a library, or even a room housing a small collection of books, without recalling our conversation that day. No doubt you recognize how difficult a condition this is. Not only does my position of employment require me to frequent book containing establishments but it also requires that I look respectable and present. The inevitable wool gathering this condition triggers it quite embarrassing. But enjoyable none the less._

_While I am on the subject of books and their influence on my 'senses', perhaps I should congratulate you on the progress you have made with your own. Is it wrong of me to anticipate being able to read it? Or shall I never be forgiven for calling your work accomplished?_

_I have lately been working on my own accomplishments. No secret to you of course, but I had no plans to continue working for my Uncle indefinitely. For reasons both of his personality, as well as the direction it would have taken me professionally. So I am happy to report that my situation has just recently changed. Let me give you the story.  
_

_A Mr. Burnes of Grace Church street has been running a very successful law firm for the past thirty years. His partner recently passed away and he is without any immediate family. Which leads us to the particulars. He had no desire to leave his business to an unknown relative so he sought out of friend of mine to consider a transfer of ownership._

_I do not recall if I have written to of you of Frank Kensington. He is an attorney and we seem singularly suited to one another. He is a charming fellow, but quick witted, with quite the sense of humor. I have observed more than once that you would find him amusing. You would also find the old Mr. Burnes amusing as well, but for quite different reasons. Being the connoisseur of human folly that you are._

_Kensington and I have arranged with him to take over his business within the next few months. Mr. Burnes will continue to be a silent partner in this endeavor since neither Kensington nor I have the means to purchase out right. This will give us a chance to build up our reputation and client list. It is not much right now but it is a start. I will be dependent on myself. _

_Jane, that makes me so satisfied. The only thing missing is you. Soon, my love._

_Think of me, dear one, for tomorrow I speak to my uncle. I have little hope that my news will be well received. I am determined to keep his favor though. How, I am not sure, but I shall think of something. I do not need him as my enemy._

_At the risk of sounding sentimental I will close this letter with all the assurances of my love and affection. I miss you._

_Yours always,_

_- Tom_

_P.S. Contrary to your previous statement I find it quite fortunate that you were born with dark hair. I believe it to be my favorite feature of yours._


	13. Chapter Twelve

**AN: Two chapters in one night; enjoy!**

**********

"Shall we enjoy ourselves this evening or stay in staunch disdain of the company"?

"Jane," Cassandra scolded, "Do not say such things! You know perfectly well that we shall enjoy our evening at Lefroy lodge, even you stubborn one."

Jane scowled at her well tempered sister and watched as she meticulously brushed out her soft golden hair. She was not feeling generous tonight. Whether it was nerves or just a general inclination towards aggravation, she did not know. What she did know was that they were to have dinner with the Lefroys and the party would included the Smiths. Mrs. and Miss Smith were manageable enough in private, but in company they possessed the singular ability to say just the thing to ruin an evening. Jane had no doubt it would be used at her expense. Or even worse, at Cassandras.

She chose her attire without much care and dressed at a leisurely pace they really could not afford. Cassandra made no move to rush her though. She knew the sting her sisters words could hold when she was in a mood. Cassandra had no desire to be on the receiving end of a Jane diatribe. She felt no ill will toward her sister though. Intimidating though she may have been at present, she knew it was coming from an insecure place.

The two sisters moved about their room in a practiced economy that spoke of many nights like this one. Here in this small, warm room, they were safe, sheltered from the outside world. A world that neither had fully re-entered after heartbreak. Jane escaping into her writing and Cassandra into household work.

Jane's fingers itched to hold her pen once more. She had done little else but write for days on end. Maybe the forceful removal from her characters was to blame for her foul mood. She was deeply involved in the maelstrom of emotions between Elizabeth and Darcy at present. But they were to dinner and it would be impolitic to allow her thoughts to remain so engaged in her written world. So with careful deliberation she froze the story in her mind, letting it hold for the time being.

Seeing her sister struggle to clasp her necklace in front of the mirror, in the same fashion she had done many times before, pulled Jane out of her selfishness. With light fingers she brushed her sisters hand out of the way and fastened the pearls, adjusting them so they lay just so.

Cassandra leaned back slightly into her sisters warmth and moved to reassure with words. "I dare say you shall find the evening quite amiable if you apply yourself."

"And how do you suggest I apply myself?" Jane asked with a wry smile on her lips.

"You know very well what I suggest. Watch, mimic, laugh, all the little things you have always done before. Continue to be you, Jane." She spoke quickly and with a sense of urgency Jane wasn't expecting. Although she should have expected it. Cassie was always chastising her in the most efficient ways.

"You're right, of course." She said restraining herself from making lite of her sisters words.

"Of course," Cassandra replied, earning a short yet sweet peal of laughter from her sister.

**********

The quiet family of four stood as one when the dark lacquered carriage pulled up in front of the main gate. It was early evening and the light was fading out into a gray haze. They were certainly a sight. Mr. and Mrs. Austen standing close with arms all tangled in between; Jane and Cassandra still as stones, standing at attention. Had there ever been such an odd party? The elders more happy and affectionate than the young. But so was the way of life in that small part of Hampshire.

**********

Jane felt a tight pinch as she ascended the front steps of Lefroy Lodge. "Jane" she heard her sister hiss sharply in her ear. She turned and gave Cassie an inquisitive look. What could she be on about?

"You wore the dress with the hole," she explained in a low whisper.

It took Jane only a few seconds to understand what her sister was saying.

"Oh no," she breathed looking down at the train of her dress. The hole was obvious to the observer. 'This is exactly what I get for not paying attention,' she internally berated herself. Her first dinner at the Lefroy's and she was showing up looking like a beggar. Well, she corrected, not quite a beggar. But at least bedraggled, like she could care less for their opinion. Which was so far from the truth that it was comical. 'Oh irony', she thought to herself 'my friend, you are never far.'

Jane spent most of the evening angling her body in such a way as to hide the offending hole in the lower portion of her skirt. It was not the most efficacious tactic but standing by the fire, as if cold, seemed to allow her to stay in one place. Therefore covered, however momentarily.

"I hear you're to go to town this winter, Miss. Lefroy?" Jane asked Lucy politely in an attempt to make conversation. The girl had been staring at her most of the evening and the meal had not even been served yet. Jane knew it was not out of malice, more likely just a morbid curiosity. It must be hard for the young and romantic to look upon those who had been so failed in it. Jane reckoned she was Lucy's walking nightmare.

"Uh..yes we plan to stay on until new year."

"And are you looking forward to it? I imagine you will attend many balls and assemblies." That as all Jane needed to say to get the girl speaking freely. She listened on more or less for the better part of an hour. It was tedious but by far the lesser evil. While she had to endure endless chatter on bonnets and dances, the rest of her poor family were being regaled by the Smiths.

She turned her attention back to Lucy again and gave her a winning smile. 'Oh yes', she thought, 'you are certainly preferable.'

It had not been much longer when Mrs. Lefroy called the guests into the dinning room. Jane held back hoping to be at the rear of the party to best conceal her dress. Sensing her dilemma, Cassandra walked up and stood close to her sisters side, concealing Jane's dress with her own.

"What were you and Miss Lefroy speaking of for all that time?"

"Oh the usual. Shops and parties, the latest fashion, and beau of course. It is not often I have someone with which I can converse on such enthralling topics. I dare say my evening has already been made." Jane spoke in her most effected accent.

"I am happy for you sister." Cassandra replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

**********

"I do not believe we've had such a fine meal the whole season, have we not mother?" Miss Smith spoke and gestured loudly in her praise to the lady of the house. Mrs. Lefroy nodded her acknowledgment of the compliment, but as one who knew the other lady well, kept silent. It was a good thing too because Miss Smith did not contain her raptures to the meal alone.

Jane was seated comfortably between Cassandra and Mrs. Smith, who unlike her daughter, was absolutely silent this evening. The old women was also most likely deaf, which made her a most agreeable dinner companion in Jane's estimation. Her daughter though had continued on about everything on Gods good earth. Some points of her conversation were so ridiculous that not only did Jane share amused looks with her sister and father, but Mrs. Lefroy was even smirking at her in amusment.

"Generosity itself, was it not mother, for you to send your carriage to us Mr. Lefroy."

"Now, now. I don't want to hear anymore on the subject. The generosity is all yours for agreeing to dine with us. It was only proper that we sent for you." Mr. Lefroy was everything gracious with his words but they were an obvious attempt to quiet the woman. Jane watched as his wife reached out and laid a hand on his forearm which seemed to settle him. Jane felt a pang in her chest. They were always small and hardly noticeable, but the intimate gestures between lovers had the most profound effect on her. The little things were what she grieved for the most about Tom. Would she be able to sooth him with a touch, or calm him with a look? Their separation seemed so long that she could hardly say anymore.

The worst was that she feared she was losing the exact color of his eyes, or the shape of his lips when he smiled her special smile. Could she even recall the melodic tone of his voice?

And just like that her thoughts seemed to somehow conjure his name into the air.

"- your nephew Thomas. I am sure he will be glad of your company for the season. Is he well?"

The conversation had veered towards the Lefroys plans to winter in London. Miss Smith had then remembered that their nephew resided there, and of course inquired after him. Completely unaware of what she had said, Miss Smith scanned the shocked faces of the others. Who, incidentally, all seemed to be trained on Jane's face. For a long minute no one uttered a word.

Still stung by hearing his name spoken aloud Jane stared wordlessly at her plate. She could not, would not, allow herself to appear so altered by the mention of his name. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself against the pain and lifted her eyes to the party. She was expecting the stares of a room full of people who felt pity for her. What she found was surprising. Of course most were looking at her with a mixture of wary sympathy, but one gaze gave her unexpected strength. Mrs. Lefroy was looking at her with calm assurances written plainly on her face. There was no pity or nervous agitation in her eyes, and with all the dignity the situation called for, she answered.

"I believe my nephew is tolerably well." She said holding Jane's gaze.

"One thing I am looking forward to is the roads. It is always preferable to traverse snow covered roads when they are stone. Non of that mucky business in London. I dare say last year we were snowed in at the Lodge for three straight weeks."

And just like that the conversation was once again diverted, and once again, Jane could breath.

**********

As she lay in her bed that night images of Tom kept invading her mind. She had been so careful to distract herself from thinking of him when she was in his families house. But once he had been spoken of the memories poured back in. Now as she lay here in the silent darkness she could not shake the images that plagues her.

Most insidious were the images of his smirking at her in the library. Oh how he had baited her. He had stirred her mind and her heart that day. Infuriating her, yet at the same time entrapping her. At the memory of the words he spoke she felt herself flush red in the darkness.

Huffing softly with frustration she rolled over determined to think on it no more.

**********

It was mid morning, yet Mrs. Austen was the only one of the household awake, besides the servants. She did not begrudge them their lie in. It had been a late evening the night before and she planned to enjoy the solitude. It gave her the time to consider her daughters and what she would do.

They had received a letter last week from Edward. His wife was expecting again and having a difficult time with it. He had requested either of his sisters company for his wife. The question was, who she would send, or if she should send both. Each one needed the change, something to pull them out of their self imposed confinements.

Mrs. Austen knew with certainty that no amount of time would alter the set of either daughters heart, or mind. The questioned remained though of what was to be done. Poor Cassandra, her beautiful name sake daughter. There was nothing anyone could do to rectify the loss. The only solution she could offer for that daughter would be occupation.

The more difficult of the two was always Jane. Would the solution for Cassandra work for Jane as well? Not that Jane needed anything else to occupy her time. The girl had been holed up in her room, writing away life a royal scribe. Mrs. Austen smiled to herself the same way she did when she first realized Jane was writing again. Ever since she was a little girl Jane had had ink stained fingers constantly. Of course, as her mother she had scolded and complained about the ink stains, but she was positively heartbroken when they were no longer there.

The stains were back though. She was quite certain she knew why too. Of course those girls thought she knew nothing about the letters. How quickly daughters forget that their mothers were once in their shoes. Mrs. Austen was resigned to continue the charade. 'What will be, will be' she thought to herself. Hopefully that young man would come through yet.

Taking a long drink of her tea she picked up the letter from Edward again. She would speak to the girls this afternoon. A trip to the coast would do them both good. Or so she hoped.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_My Dear Mr. Lefroy,_

_I feel I must address you in a more formal manner after receiving the contents of your last letter. A business man are you? Please, take my teasing in stride. I must admit I an exceedingly proud of you. I had no inclination that your news would be in any way what is was. I am relieved on more than one count._

_I have all manner of questions for you but do not know where to start. Mostly I would want to know that you are happy. Are you? Can you see yourself being satisfied with this endeavor? I would also like to inquire about the prospect of our future. Do not answer though, at least not yet. I anticipate yet fear the truth. You said soon and so I shall hold fast to your words._

_Things have been quite interesting for myself as well. Though not to the same degree. We dined this week at Lefroy lodge and had the added company of the Smiths. Do not you envy me? Though not for much longer I am sure. I heard that your aunt and uncle are to visit you when they adjourn to London for the winter. Your cousin, I believe, was in particular raptures to see you. The feeling is mutual no doubt for I know how you enjoyed her performance at the pianoforte. I dare say you shall all make a lovely party for the holidays._

_I am not jealous, well, maybe a little._

_I am off on my our journey though. Not as glamorous as Christmas in London but cheerful none the less. Cassandra and I are headed to the coast to visit my brother Edward and his wife. We heard from him not long ago that my sister in law is doing poorly and he requested our company. Mother said he desired us both, but I believe he desired Cassandra more, if only for her nursing ability. I am quite useless in that area I'm afraid. None the less I am going though. I shall enjoy seeing my brother and a change of scenery will do me good._

_I plan on spending a good deal of time revising First Impressions. Which, if you are curious, is the title of the novel I have been working on. And, despite your previous teasing of my 'accomplished' abilities, I shall let you read it, eventually._

_My only concern with this scheme is that I fear we shall not be able to exchange letters for some time. It would be exceedingly difficult to keep them secret. A harsh reality, I know. Though as unfortunate as the truth is, it might be beneficial for both parties. You must concentrate on your work, and I on my story. If you could see me writing this now you would know by the sadness in my eyes that I am trying to be positive, yet failing. I do not wish to write to you of the harshness of my feelings. The longing and loneliness, I fear, you know just as well as I. Some days I wonder if I shall ever see your face again._

_Forgive my maudlin thoughts, I cannot seem to hold them back tonight. I wish you to know that I love and miss you. I pray you understand my reasoning behind the break in our contact, it is in no way preferable to myself. I shall always be waiting, never doubt._

_Cassandra and I are set to leave in two weeks time, which should allow you to reply to this letter at least. We will be returning to Steventon sometime after new year. May the time go quickly._

_Yours forever,_

_- Jane_


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Dear Jane,_

_Thank you for the considerate retelling of your evening at Lefroy lodge. Can you not relay information in your letters without teasing me? You are wrong, and you very well know it, in assuming that I will be happy for my cousins company. Not that I would ever be intentionally neglectful. No, I cannot lie to you. I will neglect her as often as I am able when my family is in town. Do not deny that you find her infatuation and my inherent revulsion at her attentions amusing. I shall endure though, and you shall be sorry to have missed the opportunity to laugh at me.  
_

_So you are going to visit your brother then. And in doing so traveling even farther away from me.__ Your maudlin thoughts seem to have influenced my own. It appears we shall also have are only means of communication severed for some time.  
_

_God... Jane, I do not know what to write. I feel myself utterly selfish and ignorant but, it is not enough. It is by far more than I deserve yet not enough. Not even close. My heart refuses to make way for my mind. A mind which understands that we cannot be together now, understands that I cannot see you, touch you. But Jane, you must know, it is killing me._

_Now the prospect of going weeks without your sweet words scrawled across paper that was once touched by your hands. I am not even ashamed to tell you that I smell the parchment, believing incredulously that some part of your scent still lingers there._

_I have tried to keep the violent longing from invading my letters but it is becoming increasingly difficult. I dream of you, every night. Waking alone every morning, accursed, with nothing but your letters to smooth me. And now I shall be forced to live without those._

_Forgive me my melodramatic flair. It cannot be helped.  
_

_ I know you will read these words and think I have taken leave of my senses. Maybe I have. As freely as I gave away my heart, my mind seems impatient to run off and join it. I fear I shall be a broken hearted and senseless man until you are with me. To save me from myself._

_I am trying though. Everything I do at present is with our future in mind. I promised you soon, and soon it shall be. I have no time line at this moment to give validity to that claim, just an overwhelming need for it to be so. I shall do my best to move heaven and earth for you._

_Pleasantries are not within me at present to share but I do understand your request. It is more than reasonable and I acquiesce as graciously as a man in my position could be expected. Enjoy the time away. I say that most sincerely. I shall be waiting to hear word from you again._

_As always, I am yours heart and soul,_

_-Tom_


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**AN: Just a couple of things to note;**

**1. Edwards Wife was named Elizabeth but in my story she is going by Beth.**

**2. Edward was formally adopted by the Austens cousins the Knights but I wasn't sure if his surname was Knight so I kept it Austen in the story.**

**3. Most importantly sorry for the delay in continuing this story, I was working on an original novel that took longer than I expected, 6 months longer:( Hope you enjoy the return though!**

**

* * *

  
**

Jane allowed the rhythmic sway of the coach to lull her into a state a semi sleep. Not quite awake yet present enough that she could enjoy listening in on the other passengers conversation. She didn't feel bad about it, not really. And they were quite humorous. Apparently Jane and Cassandra were in the presence of a very disgruntled mother who's son had severely disappointed all her hopes. The young man in question, and young only if thirty could be considered so, had refused to marry his cousin and thus was traveling home with a terribly angry mother. More than once Jane had to disguise a laugh as a yawn. The journey from Steventon to Edwards house at the coast was quite long, almost unbearably so. Yet, she consoled herself, at least there was sufficient entertainment.

The countryside swiftly flew by and the sky darkened as they made way. Cassandra seemed to content herself with enjoying the scenery and once the other passengers had stopped being interesting, Jane pulled out her battered copy of The Monk. But the familiar text did not hold her attention for long. By and by she found herself imagining another girl, younger than her, setting out for a journey, for an adventure. She would have to write this down, it had the makings of a good story.

They changed horses at the dinner hour and Jane and Cassandra enjoyed a surprisingly decent meal at the local tavern before they were off again. Now it was well into the night and Jane was the only passenger still awake. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, the entertaining familial pairs journey had ended some time ago. They were replaced with a grieved looking old man who smelled vaguely of manure. His company was much less enjoyable as he snored rather loudly. Cassandra seemed to have found a solution in covering her bonnet and head with her wrap. Jane thought she looked rather silly, but she was sleeping peacefully so Jane would not laugh.

The dark solitude was rather eerie and the only thing to be heard was the turning of the wheels and the pattering of horse hooves in the night. Oddly enough she felt rather safe. Cocooned somehow in anonymity. No one could touch her in this moment.

She let her thoughts drift to her characters and she silently contemplated all the trouble they had been causing. No matter what she imagined she could not get the proud Mr. Darcy and the prejudiced Miss Bennet to cooperate. She loved them and all their complexities and would not change them for anything. First Impressions needed quite a lot of revisions though, not to mention an ending of some sort. Happy endings were always preferable. She felt like a curious magician molding and shaping things unseen. She wondered if this was how her father felt when writing his sermons. Searching for the right words to impart Gods guidance into the hearts of men.

Jane did not fool herself into thinking her own writing was as lofty as that, yet, in her heart she knew with the certainty that a religious man must, that her words were important. Yet pride was a sin she easily feel into, which brought her thoughts full circle around to Mr. Darcy again. A subject she pondered until she to feel into a uncomfortable yet deep sleep.

Jane and Cassandra woke in the early hours of morning and watched the sun slowly rise over the town in which they would spend the next several weeks, both looking forward to the comfort and diversion extended family could bring.

* * *

The mornings in her brothers house were never quiet. It was not a great deal, yet, with the incessant bustling of her sister in law and a nephew that ran wild; in those early mornings she missed her home severely. On one hand the busy enigmatic atmosphere of a growing family was a decent distraction from thinking of Tom, but it was also a distraction from her work. Jane had taken to working late into the night when all was finally still. Alas late nights did not always lead to late morning. Jane found herself imbuing more than her customary amount of tea with her breakfast.

It was these exact circumstances that brought Jane and Cassandra to their rooms on a particularly beautiful day. A day in which both would usually prefer to be out of doors. Both sisters were begging headaches in spite of the pleasant offerings of the outdoors and were presently hiding in their personal sanctuary of sisterly affection.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.' what do you think.?"

Jane rolled her shoulders in an attempt to loose the painful knots that had taken residence. She had spent too many hours in her chair instead of her bed and was feeling the effects. There was nothing to be done about it now. When the words came she dutifully gave herself over to the muse and paid the consequences without complaint.

"I've told you once already by your request, I like it."

Cassandra was doing her level best to be a help to her sister. Jane had always used Cassie as an unofficial editor. Often reading whole chapters aloud so that he sister could give her opinion on the characters and wording.

"I fear it pretentious."

"It is not."

"Are you sure?" Jane questioned again, the end of her pen firmly lodged between her lips in a typically indecisive gesture.

"I am sure."

"I know what you are thinking." She said while getting up and beginning to pace the room.

"But this is the most important line in the whole novel. First lines are elemental, Cassie, not to be underestimated. I have this feeling, this premonition almost. I must get this right."

Cassandra could see that her sisters passion was palpable and she believed ever word. It gave her the inclination to address the one question she had about the story.

"I do have one thought though."

"Yes?" Jane said, finally settling herself back onto the bed.

"I understand where you are going with the story, but truly Jane, must you make Mr. Darcy such an insufferable ass?"

The shocked look on Jane's face in response was enough to send Cassandra into a fit a laughter bringing her very amused sister with her. Neither was able to calm themselves for many long minutes.

"Oh Cassie, I do not think I have laughed like that in a long time."

"Nor I, but I was serious about your hero." Cassandra told her truthfully, all the while with a arm still wrapped around her waist from the laughter.

"I know you were. Yet, even your highly valued opinion shall not move me, or Mr. Darcy. There is a reason."

"A reason for his being proud and disagreeable?"

"There is always a reason."

Jane's suspicious smile made Cassandra wonder what exactly she was thinking but did not ask.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Jane paused in the doorway at the question.

"Walking."

"You wish to be alone." It wasn't a question, not really. Cassandra could read Jane's face, she knew.

Jane nodded in recognition.

"Do not stay out too long. I fear the weather harsh for a pleasure stroll."

"I will not be long Cassie. I need just enough fresh air to clear my mind."

Of course she didn't qualify just how much time that would take. The long solitary walks along the wet sand were, by estimation, the best part of her visit. When she was alone it wasn't strange to spend an hour thinking up imaginary conversations between her and Tom. She would speculate on what he was doing at certain times and what his answer might be to certain questions she wished to ask. These moments were her escape in their little world of happiness. And no matter how long the days seemed to drag in their separation she knew that their world would not falter.

* * *

As the weeks wore on the frost settled over the coastal home, and excursions to the outdoors were few. The days were short and mostly gloomy, settling as a fog into the household. The smells of holiday cooking lingered in every room and piqued in Jane a bitter sweat sadness. She missed him, in such a tangible way. The separation was painful, yet, there was a pleasure in missing him. Like he was hers to miss. These peculiar thoughts were the reason for her small odd smiles.

"What are you working on?" Her sister in law asked one afternoon. Beth was not quite well, and took to her room most days now. Today though, she said she felt livelier. Jane could see the color in her cheeks. She was happy for her health. Even if it meant her sister in laws often tiresome conversation.

"I am copying the first few chapters of my novel to send home to my parents for Christmas."

"How lovely," she gushed. "Your parents, no doubt, consider themselves very fortunate to have a writer in the family. I think it must be very nice indeed to always have some new entertainment that is exclusive to your particular circle of acquaintance. I do hope you will let us read it."

Beth could always be counted on to praise whatever she had written. Whether it be striking prose, or a laundry list. Jane knew herself, and had to admit that she wasn't immune to flattery. So long as it was taken in small doses, and equally spaced, if not judiciously given. She might not be desirous of her critical opinion, but it was always nice to have your talents enjoyed.

"It really is not ready yet Beth." Jane was expecting to have to talk her way around that statement but was given a reprieve. For she seemed quite content to ignore the refusal and instead focused her attentions on the much greater slight that was plaguing her.

Beth had heard it straight from Mrs. Forester that the Whartons were to be traveling over the Holidays thus abandoning the previously agreed upon Christmas meal with the Austens. A letter from the Whartons was received the next day explaining the situation in great detail and causing Beth a fit of indignation that far surpassed anything Jane had even seen in her own mother.

"I still cannot abide it Jane. How the Whartons could call themselves friends of ours and disappoint us so. Do they not know the respect that should at least be shown you, Edward's sisters, with a proper evening introduction?"

Jane sighed inwardly and gently placed her pen upon the table top; resigned to the task of placating her sister in law. It would not have felt like such a burden if she didn't need to spend the time working. Jane knew very well that she could send Tom nothing for Christmas, not matter how she wished to. Yet she believed that her dedication to her writing was a compliment to him as well. She so wanted him to be proud of her. Not just proud, but enraptured, enthralled, enchanted... With a swift shake of her head she interrupted her own wayward thoughts and turned her attention back to Beth.

No wonder she found her own writing flouncy.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned cold and overcast but Jane and Cassandra did not notice the weathers gloomy prediction. They sat close together on Cassie's bed, reading the latest letter from home that they had saved for three days in expectation for this very moment. Their mothers gentle and affectionate words soothed what little homesickness they did feel, and the mundane gossip was enough to raise their spirits after the dreadfully dull Christmas meal of last night.

Cassandra pushed a few a Jane's wayward curls behind her ear and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas Jane." Her words holding all the gratitude and affection for the sister who had stuck by her over the trials both had so recently faced.

Jane regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. She felt a hopefulness well up in her breast at the lightness in Cassandras eyes. It was something she feared quite gone. Yet despite hardship it was returning. A lazy smile slowly slide across her face.

"It's not completely terrible is it?"

Cassandra had no trouble following her humor and smiled in return.

"Not completely," she agreed.

Breakfast was a rushed affair with the children squirming in their seats. Jane felt some of their excitement transfer to her even though she knew nothing she really desired would be gifted her today. How would you gift a person anyway. She stifled a very unladylike laugh at the imagining of her Tom wearing a bow upon his head.

They quickly adjourned to the drawing room where the maidservant passed around nicely wrapped bundles. Fanny was resplendently happy with jewelry Edward had purchased for her and the children were busy chasing the tiny puppy around the room. Their parents had thoughtfully sent Jane and Cassandra nothing more than a little extra for their expenses. The last package to be opened was from Henry and Eliza. Not surprisingly Jane and Cassandra both received a measure of silk from Eliza and from Henry, books for Cassandra and Jane with parchment and a very handsome set of new pens.

Jane was so busy admiring them that she did not notice the letter that had fallen out of her new stack of paper. Her very inquisitive nephew missed nothing and swooped down upon the piece of paper and holding it aloft questioned loudly about what it was. Jane snatched it quickly out of his hand with a friendly smile.

"Well, it appears to be a letter." She drawled thinking it strange that Henry would have enclosed a sealed letter in her gift. All is clear though when she reads the address. Jane knows her face goes pale and her hand shakes ever so slightly. So many questions plague her. They had agreed not to exchange letters while she was not at home. How did his letter manage it's way into Henry's package? Was there something wrong? She had little time to ponder her own questions though because presently every face in the room was looking at her expectantly.

Whatever would she say?


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Well readers, I almost don't know where to begin.

I originally started writing this story on a whim. Mainly just to satisfy my own imaginings for Jane and Tom. But sadly the computer I had written this story on crashed, and since it was was "just for fun" I didn't have a back up. Very bad of me, I know. So I just sort of forgot about it. Until a few weeks ago when I checked the email attached to my FF account. And low and behold people had still been reading this, and even leaving reviews. I was shocked, and then decided that I had to finish the story for the handful of people that were still interested.

* * *

"Is Eliza sending you secret notes again?" Casandra exclaimed.

Jane looked up sharply in confusion, the letter clutched far too tightly in her hand. Cassie quickly stood and put her arm around Jane, grabbing the letter from her tight fist.

"She is," Cassie said loudly pretending to read the inscription on the paper. Jane still seemed utterly confused but by the looks on the rest of the family Cassandras lie seemed to be working.

"Cousin Eliza sends you secret letters Jane?" Edward asked. Ignoring his wife's overly interested expression. Beth began craning her neck to try and get a better look at the letter that was now in Cassandra possession.

Jane shook her head as if to clear a fog before giving her sister an imploring look. Jane willed her eyes to convey to Cassie her need to get out of this room and the present situation.

"You know Eliza," Cassandra prevaricated, "always with the little intrigues. Most likely she just intends to complain about our dear Henry."

"Well that's the French for you," Beth cooed. Losing interest in the now not so mysterious letter.

"Thank you for the gifts everyone, but I think I'm going to lie down for a while. I'm suddenly over tired," Jane mumbled while rushing from the room.

Cassandra stared after her wondering if Jane would need her company or if she was better left alone. Perhaps she should stay here and do her best to divert suspicion from Jane's odd behavior. But suddenly her worry was for naught. A loud wailing could be heard coming from behind the chaise lounge.

"Mother, the puppy's bitten me!"

Jane whipped the door to her bedchamber closed as fast as she could. Showing no care for the noise it made or the shelves it rattled. She had almost been obligated to relate the circumstances of her correspondence with Tom. She should be nervous, fearful even. Yet the only emotion she could feel was a desperate urgency to read that letter. Her mind was in a fit trying to ignore her worst imaginings as to why a letter from Tom was in her Christmas package from Henry. Had something terrible happened?

She threw the letter down onto her bed and began to pace, willing her mind to calm. After a few minutes she felt sufficiently settled and sat down to read.

_Dearest Jane,_

_I feel it is in my best interest to open this letter by asking you to endeavor to be less cross with me than I am sure you currently are. At this moment I can picture the little crease on your brow that you always get when I have said or done something to frustrate you. Considering that I have been doing just that the majority of our acquaintance, I should tell you that I am quite familiar with this expression of yours. And I am convinced this unexpected letter has more than frustrated you. Owning to my knowledge of your distaste in being left out of a scheme I will explain myself at once. I happened upon your brother quite unexpectedly on Oxford street this morning. It would seem that the newlyweds are in town for the season. Which you must know, of course. I cannot say he greeted me warmly but I pressed my luck and begged an hour of his time. Henry was most gracious in allowing me to explain my abhorrent actions over the past year, though he did chastise me quite appropriately as any loving brother would._

_I hope that you will forgive me for taking your brother into my confidence without your leave. It was something I felt compelled to do. I must tell you Jane, that something you said to me on the day our initial hopes were dashed has been weighing heavy on my conscience. When I told you that I depended entirely upon my uncle, you looked at me with complete confidence and said that you relied on me. Those words have haunted me all these months. I had foolishly thought I knew what the burden of responsibility felt like. I have sacrificed some momentary comfort to provide for my family. Yet when I looked into your beautifully sincere eyes, gazing at me with hope and confidence, I felt fear. Not just for the impossible monetary bind my uncle had placed me in, but a deep fear of my own inability to be the kind of man that one such as you should ever depend upon. How could I, imposter that I am, ever endeavor to deserve such a gift. But endeavor I have, Jane these past months have been a revelation. My duty is to my family, and will always be. Yet, I cannot be beholden, not to my Uncle or any other. The independence my new path has won me is something I never understood I needed until I had it. Now the only thing missing is you._

_Forgive me, my dearest I am rambling. And all I have written may seem far too forthcoming to be considered proper. Yet I find myself without any shame. You are my other half, the better part of my soul. And how can I truly know myself if you do not know me? This passion that is welling up in my chest has no other outlet but you. Your name is a litany that pulses through my veins and nothing but complete and utter intimacy with you will fulfill me, body and soul._

_Maybe I write this way because your brother has agreed to enclose this letter in his packages to you and your family, and have only a few short minutes to get it into his hands. Or perhaps I have finally taken leave of my senses after one to many beatings to my head. But, I remain your Tom, deficient in propriety as ever. At least you can never accuse me of inconstancy._

_Captain Austen is now informed of my intentions toward you and our plans to one day marry. I have also informed him of my circumstances, which though better than before, are still not what a marriage requires. Please do not worry, Henry will be discrete with his knowledge. I cannot guarantee he will not have a multitude of opinions to ply you with. But he is your brother and I leave the telling off to you my dear. Though he has graciously agreed to be a secure channel for us to continue to exchange letters. So please write to me. I wish to know how you are faring and every little detail you condescend to share with me._

_Happy Christmas my Love,_

_Yours always,_

_Tom_

As she refolded the letter and tucked it safely into her folio she could only think of how much she loved Thomas Lefroy.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

He had expected to see shock. To be swiftly followed by anger, rage, and a thoroughly hyperbolic speech on the failing of Tom's character. In the days leading up to the confrontation with the Judge, Tom had gone over each and every possible outcome. Hoping to be as prepared as possible. What he was wholly unprepared for was his uncles silence. For the first few moments he was convinced that this was the proverbial calm before the storm. Yet as the minutes ticked away without so much as a sound from the old man, Tom began to sweat. He could feel the moisture on his back, making him want to squirm in his seat. Fidgeting was a sign of weakness, as his father had taught him, so he would ignore the sensation.

"You are determined," his uncles voice broke the strained silence forcefully.

"I am."

The judge stood, and Tom mirrored his action. Both staring at the other with a dining table and years of frustration between them.

"If you do this thing, if you chose to leave my protection and patronage then I will no longer support you. I will not favor you in your profession nor will I offer my experience or advice. From this day on you will be a stranger to me. And should this venture fail I shall not take you back into my home or my pocketbook. You will live or die entirely on your own ambition."

"I understand," Tom said quickly. "All I ask is that you not oppose me, that you do nothing to purposefully hinder my success Uncle. No matter how I've angered you."

His uncle looked incredulous. "I have no reason to conspire to see you fail nephew; no doubt you can accomplish that entirely on your own."

And with that the old man drained his wine glass and stalked from the room. Tom fell back into his chair with a dazed expression on his face. He had finally done it, he was free.

* * *

Tom had never had much of a mind for numbers. He was a damn fine lawyer but Kensington was the one who ran their books and kept Tom appraised of their profits, or occasionally the lack there of. He rubbed his eyes fiercely as he tried to make sense of the piles of papers covering his desk. It was past midnight but he was determined to formulate a plan that he could stand behind. He needed to work out a rough estimate on when he could conceivably marry. So here he sat alone in his dimly lit office working the numbers, over and over again. How much would he need to set aside to continue helping his parents? Could he afford to engage a house in this part of London large enough to accommodate Jane as well as himself? What if they had children right away, how much would that cost?

Feeling discouraged he picked up her letter to read it for the hundredth time since receiving it this morning.

_My dearest Tom,_

_Despite your best efforts, I am cross with you. Quite cross actually. But I fear it is not for the reason you think. It is not because you made me look ridiculous in front of my family by surprising me with that letter, or for speaking so candidly to Henry. I am cross because your letter was too perfect, too inspiring, and dare I say titillating to be absorbed with the knowledge that I still do not know when I will get to see your face again. Words like that inspire me to physical demonstrations of my feelings, and I cannot touch you. So my love, I am cross with you for making me love you so fiercely. It is hardly fair. But I shall endeavor to forgive you._

_Life for me has been quiet these past weeks. Not so much in the sense of volume, for my nieces and nephews provide adequate audible stimulation, but quiet in spirit. My day to day activities have been simple and rewarding._

_First Impressions is coming along nicely. I am actually exceedingly proud of it. I sent a few chapters to my parents for Christmas but I've yet to hear their opinion. I am sure it will be much more complimentary than the work warrants, but such is the way with family. If Henry is obliging I might be persuaded to send you a copy through him. I admit I am quite desirous of your sincere opinion. And I know you would never flatter me undeservedly._

_You neglected to tell how you enjoyed your holidays in your last letter. I was expecting a detailed retelling of ever scintillating conversation you shared with your dear cousin. Did she play all your favorites on the pianoforte? You must tell me everything for laughing at you is one of my greatest pleasures._

_I must cut this letter short though. For I promised to help the children build a fort in the library while their father is out. You are welcome to imagine me crawling around under tables and laugh to your hearts content._

_All my love,_

_Jane_

_P.S. We must devise some scheme to meet each other in London on my trip home from the coast. I expect some ideas in your next letter._

With renewed spirits he dove back into his planning. He could hardly wait for the day when he could spend everyday and every night with that woman.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Jane;

my darling girl,

You will hopefully be pleased to know that I have in fact been scheming. You could also call it planning but scheming sounds much more devious, does it not? I have been hard at work making plans for us my love. And not just for a clandestine meeting in London. Have I piqued your interest?

Two years.

Can you wait that long dearest Jane? If everything continues the way I hope, we could conceivably marry in two years time. I know it is not exactly soon, but it is manageable. I have begun to tell myself that in a mere seven hundred and thirty odd days I can take you home with me and never let you leave. It also means at least a hundred more letters from your hand that I shall get to enjoy. Which is no small consolation in my opinion. I challenge you to find any two lovers who have ever know each other as well as we do after all these months of correspondence.

There are particulars I would like to discuss with you about our future. Such as where you would like to live. But all of that should be covered in person, do not you think? I have spoken to your exceedingly helpful brother and he has agreed to assist me in securing a day for us to spend together in London. Think of what you would like to do my love, because I shall be in a mood to give you the moon should you request it.

Yours always,

Tom


End file.
